


Choosing my path

by AnnaCipactli12



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon's son breaks the rules to marry the one he loves and reminisces about it, he vows he will  continue to make his own path. (Taken from the Tudors Fanfiction.Net plot bunny)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choosing my path

_“All my friends are heathens, take it slow_  
wait for them to ask you who you know  
please don’t make any sudden moves  
you don’t know the half of being abused …”

_~Heathens by Twenty One Pilots (Suicide Squad Soundtrack)_

It is said that you are born into the life you are born. In my view, that has always been a poor excuse for not striving to be better than our folks, and improving where they erred.  Of course, nothing in my life can ever be called normal.

I was born on New Year’s day, the year of our lord was 1511. My parents rejoiced for weeks. It was said that the Duke of Norfolk, the present Duke of Norfolk’s father, Thomas Howard, said to my mother’s best friend’s future husband, Lord Willoughby, that the bells would not stop ringing. And the minute he finished, they stepped. My mother had received terrible news from my caretaker, lady Margaret Pole that I had fallen ill. Nobody expected me to survive.

My mother began to ask herself if this was the price for what she’d done. “For my sin.” She told me, the day before my wedding. Just what, sin you might ask, could come from the saintliest women in Christendom who, next to the Virgin Mary, was free of stain? First you have to ask yourself, is anyone truly that innocent?

Of course not. Some people are just better at pretending than others.

When my lady mother revealed to me the truth behind the consummation, I was a little shocked. My sister Mary on the other hand was. She paled and jumped her seat and told my mother “How could you? After all you taught us. Was it all a lie then, mother?”

My sister can be … _difficult_ at times. She and my wife did not get along in the beginning but she and I have always been close and seeing how much this meant for me, she made an effort and needless to say, that paid off. Now the two can barely be apart. (It is quite maddening. Sometimes I want to ask my friends to smack the back of my head, to wake me up from thus nightmare but he simply shrugs, grins and says “No way, Your Highness. You get to live like a Prince while the rest of us wait for the day we can call you Your Majesty, and serve you day and night. It seems right the universe strikes a little balance with your outspoken sister and fun wife.”)

Fun was an understatement. My wife was a lot of fun but sometimes she took things too far, spending a lot of money in dresses. Not just for herself but for others. To be quite honest, when I am not avoiding my mother and her petty remarks, or my father’s crudeness, it can be quite cheerful.

After I convinced my sister to hear what our mother had to say, she finished her tale.

“I was a young woman, I did not know my husband would be more of a monk than a husband. I tried to get him started but he was too scared. I am not sure what to do. I had sisters, and my mother told me what to expect, so I thought ‘the grandson of Edward IV’ should know but he was like his father through and through. They should have named him Henry instead of your father.” She said, not withholding her disdain as she thought back to our father.  
My father was good at keeping up at appearance. Like my mother, she was a good masker. And it seemed as if my parents were the ideal couple. Handsome, well dressed, and with good parents, but behind closed doors it was the complete opposite.  
My father needed a son and he thought of my mother as the most beautiful woman that ever lived. He wanted to live the fantasy of being the knight and she the maiden, but after a while he discovered that my mother was anything like the passive (and often useless) maidens from the old fairy tales. She was active, she was beautiful but she was unwilling to keep herself in the background as her predecessor had done. She had adopted the English fashions, including the gable hood, but it was all part of her plan to gain more power.  
Nothing my mother ever did was without a purpose. She loved God, but she also loved being in control She took her queenship as a sign of the Almighty, and everything she did was therefore viewed as her way of honoring him.

I am not like that. When I was a kid, I was afraid of speaking ill of my parents, especially my father. But as I got older, the blindfold fell and I realized my parents were anything but perfect.

Eventually, Mary forgave my mother and I told her that I understood why she said she was a Virgin. In canonical law, she was. There were many interpretations as to what consummation entailed, that from her religion’s point of view, nothing had happened since Arthur refused to plant his seed in her. If this ever got out in the Protestant circles -which my wife’s cousins mingle- I’d be toast. I don’t mean burned to the stake, but my reputation would go through the flames and that would mean my sister and my wife’s as well.

My wife, you might be asking, who is she? Why the mystery? Why not reveal it already? My wife is the reason why my lady mother was forced to reveal the truth to us, and why she and I got into a powerful argument three years ago.

My lady mother didn’t approve of my choice of bride you see and when my uncle came to discuss a betrothal with my sister, Mary, who thought she’d be handsomer, I shocked him by rising from the high table and going down to where Katherine Howard was sitting and gave her a commitment ring.

* * *

 

_People were shocked. Silence filled the room, the air seemed to have grown hotter. It was suffocating. Only Mary’s chuckling reanimated everyone._

_Henry glared sharply at Mary. The Princess shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that her brother had to be stupid. ‘I might as well have fun with this.’ She thought, letting herself go, when Kitty accepted and called herself the merry queen._

_The Queen told her daughter to be silent but Mary couldn’t stop laughing. It was just so funny and her father looked like  he was about to have an apoplexy. Her betrothed looked more bothered with her behavior than Henry’s. After all, he had chosen their cousin, Isabel, when his German advisors, advised Mary was a better choice. But Iberia for Iberians, he was so hungry for the people’s approval and no doubt, seeing the portrait of the beautiful Portuguese Infanta, stirred something within him. She was his age, and he couldn’t wait for Mary to grow up who in his opinion (Mary overheard from one of her mother’s ladies) was an ‘ugly dwarf.’ Now that he was in need of a wife again, after his Empress died in childbirth, he no longer found his cousin an ugly dwarf. Their roles had reversed, now it was him trying to get her attention, while she casually dismissed him.  
Seeing her laugh, made him aware that perhaps his Spanish advisers had been right the first time around. Mary Tudor was too unpredictable and at times, too bold for his own liking. ‘She will not make a good Consort’. And there was his son, his dear Felipito, who had not liked the idea of his father remarrying. If he saw him next to a girl eleven years older than him, who had no regard for Spanish customs, he would think ill of him._

_Henry VIII put down his goblet and walked down to his son. Gripping his arm he asked him what was he thinking. It didn’t bother him that people heard him. His son had gone too far, and if he was going to rule over his dominions one day, he had to learn to listen._

_Prince Henry freed himself from his father’s grip and told him that the die had been cast. “Your Majesties have been choosing brides for me since my birth, my time has come to have my say.” The Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Lord of Snowdonia said boldly._

_There was a brief moment where Henry VIII was invaded with pride. He couldn’t help but smile. But his brief moment of pride was interrupted by his wife who joined them and told her only son to stop his childish behavior._

_“It is not childish mother. Father chose you against his council’s advice, so did those before us, now I make my choice. Lady Katherine is a woman of high bearing.”_

_“She is a commoner.” The Queen hissed, not bothering to look at the enchantress who had placed her son under some kind of evil spell._

_“She is a nobleman’s daughter. Granted, impoverished.” Kitty glared at him, Henry continued. “But a nobleman nonetheless and she descends from Kings as you and father.”_

_“You do not have to give us a history lesson, my son, We are well aware where she comes from. You are smitten, I can understand that but you are a Prince and she is not royal enough to wed you. Like it or not, there are rules and even a Prince must abide by those rules.”_

_“Not this Prince.” Her son said, grinning. “My lady, will you do me the honors to dance the first dance in honor of my cousin’s betrothal.” Kitty didn’t wait for the King and Queen to voice disagreement or her uncle to ask her what she’d done. She rose from her seat and giggling at everyone’s expression, she tookd his hand and the two danced, regardless of what others said._

* * *

 

My father came to accept our union. He gave us a ceremony, worthy of the King of Kings. After my mother showed her face in the feast, she gave us a small smile. I could tell how conflicted she was. She had done what she could, to preserve the Tudor line but sometimes she went too far, thinking herself as the ruler of her adoptive realm, rather than its consort.

Kitty is not like that. She knows her place, but she is not afraid to give her opinion. But when she does, it is because she feels I need to hear it, not to humiliate me or to prove a point.

My lady mother blames my wife for Charles choosing not to marry my sister and instead going back to his German whore. But, my sister is to blame. (In fact, she is very proud of that fact, boasting that nobody will ever conquer her heart and she will be like the goddess Athena, and her half sister Diana, indomitable and a warrior. I have told her that Princesses cannot be warriors but she winks at me and looks at Kitty for support. “If you could marry her, and stand up to mama, then I can do what I like.” It is useless arguing with my sister and when she is with Kitty, it is worse because Kitty being Kitty, takes her side.)

After our son was born, my mother’s attitude changed. She and Kitty will never get along. NOTHING will change that, but my son has brought a new perspective to my mother. She no longer sees the world in black and white, and while she turns her head away in disgust every time one of lady Northumberland’s (Kitty’s cousin) reformist friends talks to me; she is a lioness when it comes to my son and now that Kitty is awaiting her second child, she makes sure that she has everything she needs.

This pregnancy is the reason why I feel the need to write this. So many things have happened, so much that I thought I would have never endured. Yet I did.

I might not be like my father. The womanizing, power hungry, war mongering ruler, or the rule follower whom my mother would have wanted to be. But I am stronger because of that. I am my own man. I chose my wife because I wanted to, not because I felt I needed to because of divine or royal devotion.

I am the King. And as the King, my word shall be followed. I do not have to justify myself to others or scream from the top of my lungs or make a show of my piety. People are stupid, but a great portion is also wise and when they see a man who brings them victory, who strengthens the country more than their previous monarchs, they will shout my name.

There will be some who say that it is a bad omen to have a baby when my father is not yet buried. But I am not a superstitious man. And to change their minds, I will give my second offspring a christening worthy of future kings. Regardless if he is a boy or a girl, I am going to make it clear to everyone who is their new queen, and their prince or princess-to-be.

My mother doesn’t like the changes in the privy council, nor that some places in England have become a safe haven for Reformist, but she approves of how I have made the corrupt priests bend the knee to the crown, and forced those that refuse to obey me, out of their parishes. My sister has been a great help. She will never lead armies but her boldness is enough to scare the bravest of men. (And believe me, when my sister threatens someone, she means it. Like our mother, she can hold a grudge for years.)

Before spring comes, I will see me and Kitty crowned. Kitty is already making herself known, giving twice than my mother, at hospitals, churches and wherever there are beggars. People have begun to call her the ‘Merry one.’ I am filled with nostalgia whenever I hear this.

She will make a great queen of England. Of that, I have no doubt. And centuries after we are gone, people will be whispering our names, King Henry, the Ninth of his name, and Katherine, the one he chose, and the merriest of all Consorts.


End file.
